January 27

January 27, 2008

Today was another day of high importance. We were invited to the centennial celebrations
of the church in the next village, Ggayaaza. We were of course, guests of our chief, Mr Lubega. We were waiting and ready to go plenty early in the morning after the three of us laughed much about trying to dress ourselves in the basutis. We did a pretty good job but needed some adjusting. Catherine came over from next door and ran back to put hers on so we could have a photo op and take some “snaps”. Mr Lubega and Vennie finally came and we all squished into the car and headed off through the mud and rain and potholes and gorges stopping here and there looking for a gift to bring to the parish priest because that’s what you do. Steve and Mr Lubega organized that.

We got to the church late but the service hadn’t started. I think they must have been working on African time too, which seems to be more or less 2 hours later than you originally had planned. We took our seats in the VIP tent. We were introduced to several people with our clan names. People are just so honoured that we would wear their traditional dress and have clan names. They think we’re so smart. The service which was led by the archbishop of Uganda was long and included three weddings and it was in the Luganda language but it didn’t feel so long. Vennie and Mr Lubega translated for us here and there. During the offering time, after the money was collected hundreds of people brought their gifts forward for archbishop and priests. But not us. Mr Lubega said there would be a time later for our gift. After the service was over the program of speeches and performances started, sometimes both happening at the same time. Mr Lubega warned us that after another VIP had finished speaking it would be the parish priest’s turn and that’s when we would go up to bring our gift. Little did we realize that we were the only people bringing up a gift at that time. And we all had to go up. We couldn’t just leave it up to the male in the group. Well there we were 4 bzungus trailing each other, traipsing across the vast lawn in front of about 5000 congregants who broke out into laughter at the sight. Anne and I were quite embarrassed. The priest apparently commented “Long live the King of Buganda if Bzungus can wear our basutis.” Later we were called upon to come forward and have our photos taken with the archbishop of Uganda and we went traipsing across the lawn again.

The choir was great, sang a lot and a variety of traditional western church music and traditional African style church music. Unfortunately the sound system didn’t do very well for them. There were a number of pieces that I thought would be great to learn and bring back. I mentioned to Mr Lubega that I’d be interested in meeting the choir director and before I knew it he had been summoned and there he was. He’s coming to Masooli tomorrow to the Learning Centre to bring some music. Hopefully it can be a good time of sharing. The performers that sang and danced after the service were amazing. They seemed to be the youth of the church. They danced their wonderful traditional dance that I don’t think I could ever do because there’s no way I could ever move my hips that fast. They sang and played their drums also a type of flute at one point and a xylophone. We were very impressed.


Again we were invited to be the first to receive food. I did feel a little uncomfortable receiving free food vouchers when it seemed that not everyone was going to be able to partake in the feast. The feeding of the 5000 didn’t include everyone here. Each parish church attending got together in a little corner and had their own little church picnic. But it did also seem like some people went without. We didn’t get back home until well after 7pm. The car wouldn’t start at first and I marveled at Mr Lubega’s patience. We stopped for a few groceries and also at the petrol station to see what was going on with the car. We spent a good hour there I’m sure and cars stopped at the side of the road to wave at us. Children gathered to stare and wonder and laugh. A neighbour came by and shook our hands and thanked us for wearing their traditional wear. We were very dignified he said. So we’re smart, cute (meaning more like fabulous here) and dignified! Vennie suggested we go into Kampala wearing basutis and we would likely make the newspaper headlines and maybe even be summoned by the King! It’s all very funny and very wonderful and very strange.